French Dragon
by Abernathy Wordsmith
Summary: His voice was low and sweet, his kisses like fire on his skin as he whispered those French words to him as cold hands ran across his body, bright, nearly glowing eyes watched his reaction...Yao's bedmate has left him, but he needs his mystery lover back, with him. But all China can remember is his French, and his eyes, eyes that seemed far too old for such a young man. M later on.
1. Chapter 1

Confession time~ I've never written any of the Asians, so most of this is just speculation or guessing. I've written this as a little trade off with a friend of mine, **_MEAGAN_**, but since she requested a full on Porn Without Plot fic (with any pairing I want) and since she hasn't yet fullfilled her end of the deal, I'm with holding any smut until she does~ (And it's motivation to try something diffrent...) So, here you are! A Canada/China fic for you to enjoy!

So, enjoy or I will beat you with a hockey stick wrapped in barbed wire, eh? -Scary Russia shoulder shadow- Kolkol?

**/-Translations-/**

* * *

The lovely French words he spoke, the smooth voice in which he spoke with, the way his slightly toned, hairy arms wrapped around his smaller form, and his breath that fanned across the smaller ones neck, breath smelling of wine, was all wrong.

He gasped, eyes clenched tight, moaning incoherent nonsense as the man that held him whispered into his ear. Yao wished that he would just shut up, he didn't want to hear him speak a word more of that damn language.

The scent of sweat and sex clung to their skin, bodies tangled together in one mass of limbs, moving together in tandem as their moans and screams echoed across the room, the bed creaking slowly as they moved, an act of passion and lust, and no more.

What felt like hours later, Yao sat at the edge of the bed, tired and sore, but not at all satisfied; which was strange, considering France was legitimately known as the country of love and passion. But…it wasn't the same…

He sighed, running a hand through his long hair, pushing the slightly sweat-dampened locks out of his face as the Frenchmen moaned in his sleep, reaching out across the bed. "Mmnn…_La Chine ... ma douce, viens à moi ..._" He opened one bleary eye, seeing his most current bedmate standing, pulling on his pants and grabbing his shirt from the random place it had been tossed.

**/-China...my sweet, come to me...-/**

"I can't stay the night, aru." Yao gathered his clothes, sifting through the masses they had shed in their hurried bout.

Francis almost immediately sat up, hair mused and severely confused. "Qu'est-ce?"

**/-What?-/**

Yao repeated himself, leaving the hotel room without even glancing back at the confused Frenchmen. "I have to leave, _Zàijiàn, fàguó._"

**/-Goodbye, France.-/**

* * *

The next day, China sat at the table, a few minutes before the meeting would start, and attempted to ignore the stares and whispers, most of them directed at him, as he shuffled through his papers, not really paying attention.

"China-kun…" A polite voice coughed. Yao glanced up from his papers, seeing his lovely little brother standing before him, blushing lightly.

"Is something wrong Nihon, aru?"

Japan nodded, glancing to the chair quietly, actually taking it and sitting without asking for permission. China was mildly surprised at this seemingly insignificant act; Japan must've been really worried about something…

Japan was blushing even worse, glancing around a few times. China attempted to follow his gaze and almost always seeing another of their siblings, who would suddenly look away when they noticed he was looking.

Just as Taiwan turned around, walking away quick enough with her head staring at her shoes that she ended up walking into a door, Japan managed to stutter a question. "W-would you….c-could you possibly…have a French fetish or something?"

Yao immediately exploded, demanding why he would even ask something like that. Japan, whose face was starting to get even worse if it were possible, began repeating his apologies, that he'd been asked by Korea, Taiwan and a few others to speak on their behalf about the situation.

"Aiyah! There is no situation, aru!" Yao denied any such 'French fetish', turning to glare at his Korean brother, who almost immediately froze, though his back was turned to them.

"W-well…" Mumbled Kiku, looking away. "Th-there's b-been kind of…of a pattern…"

Yao turned, scratching the back of his head as he sighed aggregately, this was causing him a headache…oh the pains of growing old… "Alright, humour me. What's this pattern, aru?"

"Y-you've been…intimate with any male French-speaking country y-you can find…" Yao sighed, had he really been that obvious? He shook his head, speaking before Japan could continue his little one-man intervention.

"I know…" He muttered, blushing a little himself and looking away. He rubbed at his temple with his fingertips, the migraine he had growing tenfold with his…confession. "I know, alright? It's just…that's all I can remember…"

"R…Remember?" Japan gently prodded, feeling the shift in mood. Once awkward with the situation suddenly turned grave, serious even. China didn't even say 'aru'…

The Chinaman nodded, looking down, sighing. "A few…months ago, I was forced to go out and get drunk by that English idiot and American pig…" He closed his eyes, recalling that night. It had been replaying within his mind for as long and often as possible, attempting to remember more, praying he didn't forget as much as he had.

_His lips were sweet, tainted with the bitter tang of whiskey and beer as he whispered, his voice low and soft, into his ear; those French words spoken so…strangely, so differently than from what he had unwittingly picked up by listening to his fellow French Allied Power, something older than Francis's language._

_His hair was long, not as long as his own, certainly, but enough to be noticeable, long enough for Yao to tangle his hands in, moaning as the man kissed and nipped along his neck and chest. His hands were touching him, feeling him, not daring to leave a single curve of his body unexplored, leaving the much shorter Asian trembling, loving each gentle, lingering touch as he lavished attention upon the ancient nation, who hadn't felt this sort of presence since The Great Roman Empire had walked the Earth, his hands…his hands were so cold, he felt almost as if wherever they touched, his skin would become a little numb. They caused so many strange sensations to bubble inside the small man. Each kiss flourished upon his skin as he whispered another word to him, every grunt and satisfied moan making Yao want more, so much more._

_His body was...massive. _

_Broad shoulders, strong arms, his chest was hard and his stomach defined, this was the body of a modern day warrior, a solider of the Allied Powers, a silently strong presence, the dragon hidden within the darkest forests, waiting for one brave soul to venture forth an incur his wrath._

_The way his eyes shone, with sweat dripping down his forehead and handsome features, his eyes, almost glowing with a near-demonic light, nearly convincing Yao that this was indeed a spirit, something otherworldly, shone in desire and possessiveness. But the only thing that convinced him that he wasn't was the emotion behind them._

_He seemed to speak to him, whispered to him, through his piercing gaze. They were far too human to be a spirit or ghost. They knew far too much for someone so young. Loneliness, abandonment, guilt, fear, rejection from those closest to his heart…It had all aged this beautiful young man far beyond his years. _

_His cold hands and sweet lips never breaking contact with the smaller, older nation, seeking the little spots that would make his squirm and moan, lavishing Yao with attention, drowning him in pure, unadulterated pleasure until his throat was raw from his moans and shrieks._

_But his _name_…He was sure that he had bellowed it to the heavens, begging and screaming, but as he thought back, he couldn't recall it…_

"_**We're not so different, you and I…"**__ he could recall him muttering as Yao sat in his lap, staring dazedly into those intoxicating eyes. __**"Nobody will ever know what we know, what we've gone through…"**__ As if to empathize this, his goosebump-inducing hands ghost along the scars on his back, acquired by his war with Japan.__** "Nobody will know what it's like to live for five thousand years, to watch time and humanity go on endlessly, pointlessly..."**__ Those lips, pressing against his neck, taking one more bite, leaving a good-sized mark on his neck.__** "Or to whipped and trained again and again like a dog, to suit a new master's needs…"**__ lips connected, silencing his melancholy words. _

"As long as I have someone who understands, I don't care_…" _China whispered to himself, remembering his only reply to the man, wanting to hit himself. "Aiyah…" he sighed, sounding a little defeated. "I know that it was French, aru…Maybe I was too drunk to remember anything but…" He rubbed at his head, as if doing so would help him remember. "Aiyah!" He repeated, this time a little more forceful. "This is so frustrating, aru! When I woke up the next morning there was only a note next to my clothes, aru!"

"What did it say?" Asked Japan, a little concerned for his once older-brother's sanity.

"I'm…sorry…" Sorry…sorry for what? That little question had plagued Yao for the last five or six months since he'd read that little note. He'd been so furious with his one-night lover that he burned it on the spot, though he now regretted it. He could've just checked the handwriting of people, instead of whoring himself out until he hoped he could find the right one that matched his memories.

Yao leaned his head forward, his putting his head in his palms as he muttered to himself, not really knowing or caring if Kiku heard. "I haven't been able to have a good night's rest in what seems like an eternity…All I can ever think about is…is him…"

Kiku reached out, gripping the Chinamen's shoulder, pulling Yao from his drunken memories. "China-kun…have you thought that…maybe this person doesn't exist…?"

The response was immediate. Yao stood, slapping away Japan's hand. "What the hell does that mean? I know he does, he has to, aru!" China left, tears falling down his face as the eyes of the world watched his back.

* * *

_He has to, he has to be real! Something like that…like what he said to me, what he made me feel…it has to be real…_ Thought Yao, wiping away at his eyes to dry his tears though they were quickly replaced as he quietly sobbed, his old heart nearly breaking at the idea.

It was true, he had been fairly drunk when it happened, and he always imagined that his lover would be European…But imagining one's own perfect person? It…it didn't seem possible.

He felt a presence come, and just as he was about to slink away to hide within the bushes or maybe climb a tree, somebody had sat next to him. Yao felt something dab at his face, and saw that the person was wiping at his face with a handkerchief. China looked up, sniffling.

A pair of gentle indigo-violet eyes stared back, concern overwhelming, medium-length flax blonde hair and a face that greatly resembled that American loud-mouthed idiot, so much so that Yao was tempted to scream at him and demand that he leave. But the man spoke before China could get a word out.

"Mister China, are you alright? You stormed out of there pretty fast, eh?" He was too quiet to be America; it took a second for Yao to understand him due to the quiet whisper in which he spoke with.

Yao looked away, shaking his head. "I-I'm sorry…B-but I can't…Remember you, aru..."

The man actually smiled, eyes looking slightly amused behind his half-frameless glasses. "Think nothing of it, since it happens every day I've gotten used to it. My name is The Dominion of Canada." Cana…da…? That name, it sparked something at the back of Yao's mind…

"You're…one of that English bastards colonies, right, aru?" China looked closer, he certainly didn't look like a child of Brittan. No massive brows, no scowl, no unjust pride.

None of that…Mister Canada-san looked more...serene, a shy expression, a kind nature, a sweet presence. His hair was tied back, in a way that reminded him of France, so he couldn't really tell if it were long, and there was one stray curl that bounced between his violet eyes.

He laughed, nodding slightly. "It's unfortunate, but he still has quite some control over me. Though I wouldn't say that I was one of his colonies though, a loyal son maybe."

Yao looked away, not meeting Canada's stare. He had his eyes, the eyes belonging to the man he'd been dreaming of. But if he were Brittan's son, he doubt that he could speak French. Both Brittan and France were forever at odds with each other, he greatly doubted that Arthur would allow a son of his to learn French fluently. "I have nothing to say to you, so just…leave me alone, aru…"

He heard snickering…He turned, glaring at the English lapdog of a nation, swinging his fists in more of an act of indignant anger, not intending to actually hurt him. Canada-san was still laughing quietly, blocking his blows with one arm upraised. "Why the hell are you laughing, aru?"

"I-I'm sorry, Mister China…" He whispered, still smiling, still snickering quietly. "B-but it's hard to take you seriously when you say 'aru' at the end of everything…it's just…so cute…"

China was nearly screaming again, still swinging at Canada, slowly inching forward until he had unwittingly crawled onto the younger man's lap. "Cute! You think I'm cute, aru? I'm a five thousand year old country, aru! I'm not cute in the slightest, aru!"

Canada caught his arms, smiling sweetly, head tilting to the side ever-so-slightly. "But you are cute, China. You are very cute indeed." Yao's eyes widened a fraction, pausing slightly, a different memory returning to him.

_A cold hand tilting his chin up as lips were held against his, the other running through his hair, loosening the hair-tie he wore. His voice, husky and low, chuckled quietly into his ear. "Je trouve belle, comment vous dites ces choses mignonnes, la Chine...Vous êtes très mignon..."Yao knew his lips moved, forming the right words, saying his name…_

**/-I find it lovely how you say such cute things, China...You are very cute...-/**

"Sh…Shut up…" Canada stopped smiling, hearing Yao speak. "Just…shut up." He leaned forward, resting his head on Canada's shoulder, holding onto the younger man's jacket. Canada was quiet, holding Yao's shoulders, hugging him, his cold breathing fanning across his neck, giving the Asian nation a few chills, making him shutter. This was…better.

His body wasn't suffocatingly warm and hot, it was cold. His hands were even colder than his massive, broad-shouldered body, hidden within that annoyingly bulky winter-time uniform he wore. China nuzzled close into the crook of Canada's neck, smelling sweet tree sap and the comforting smell of a camp fire, not really caring what the other thought of this compromising position as long as he could continue to lay there, in his strong arms.

Arms that belonged to a solider of the Allied Powers.

* * *

**I used Google translate, so it's probably less than 100 percent accurate. Don't correct me on it, for I don't care~ It get's the message across. ^_^ Thank's for reading! I'll update when Meagan does her half of the deal. **


	2. Chapter 2

So...Meagan finished her half of the deal (Yay!) but I haven't. (Boo!) Why? Because of Writers-block. T^T What's worse is, I promised her a PWP, and I couldn't deliver, so now I've gone and made a maybe three, four, or five chapter story, considering the fact I still have to wrap-up my Belarus-Canada fic, I'm freaking screwed! I'm way to ambitious in the beginning, but then I end up failing my expectations...

Anyway, enough of my rambling, here your chapter.

* * *

China yawned, blinking a few times as he looked around. He was still outside; the sun was on the other side of the building and left most of where he was dark. He sat up, rubbing his eye slightly.

There was somebody under him.

America…? No…Whatshisname…Canadia or something like that…He was sleeping, one arm around China's waist and the other behind his head. China couldn't help but smile, he leaned forward, putting his chin on the larger nation's chest, his fingers mindlessly playing with the bits of hair that hadn't been tied back in his loose ponytail.

He was kinda cute…He was big, sure, but cute…

"Any better, China?" Yao visibly flinched, sitting up in the man's lap when he spoke.

"You…were awake, aru?" Asked China, a little embarrassed. It wasn't really in any Asian's nature to be…well…cuddly, especially with a complete stranger too.

"For the last few minutes." He let go of Yao's waist, putting a hand to his mouth to yawn.

"W…well…Yes, actually, aru…" China mumbled under his breath.

The man, Canada, China recalled, smiled. "That's good." Canada smiled, leaning his head back a little to see the path that they both had come from. "C'mon, we should get back; everybody's probably worried about you." Yao took the hint, standing and stepping off the man as he hauled himself back to his feet.

Yao blinked, he was really tall... Yao was about chin-height with him, he was taller than Korea and maybe an inch or so taller than America. "They'd be worried about you too, aru." Canada chuckled lowly, like it was a bad joke that he couldn't help but laugh at.

"Yeah…sure, maybe." He raised his hand, putting it to the Asian's head like how China used to do to Japan and Korea when they were only kids.

China swatted away at the offending hand. "Aiyah! I'm the world's oldest country! I deserve some damn respect for that, aru!"

"China-kun! China-kun!" China paused in his not-so-fierce onslaught of attack, looking up with a curious expression.

"Japan?" The old soul stepped out from the brush, looking a bit more bright-eyed than he had leaving.

The Bob-haired Asian sighed upon seeing him, walking closer. "There you are, China-kun! I've been looking all over for you; nobody had seen you since you left!" As if to empathize this, others called from across the lawn, declaring that China had been found.

China blinked, and blushed. He'd gone and acted like an adolescent child that hadn't gotten his way! Combined with his less-than-proper escapades of the last few months...well, his bosses wouldn't he happy with the new reputation he was gaining, that's for sure.

"I'm sorry, aru. I was with Mister Cana..." Yao paused for a second, what was that man's name again...? He looked back, stepping around the brush as Japan, curious, followed.

"Sir? Cana...Brittan's kid? Hello, aru?" China called, his only reply was the twittering of birds, gathering in their nests as night fell and fog swept across the cold lake bellow the valley.

He paused, looking around in confusion. "China-kun...?" He looked to Japan, who was very concerned. "Is something wrong?"

He was quiet for a moment, before nodding no. "I just...thought I saw something for a moment, aru..."

"China-kun..." The brown-eyed nation looked from the lake to his once-upon-a-time little brother. "I...I want to help you, find this person that is..." he sighed, looking a little exasperated, like he was faced with a dirty closet he had to clean. He could feel the mood, and China certainly wasn't in the same state of contentedness he had been a few minutes ago. "The meeting is two weeks, after that, the momentary peace will end and the war will be back on, I'll help as much as I can, China-kun..."

The way his brothers' eyes lighted made Japan's heart sink, the way he grinned made him reconsider, and the way he hugged him made him uncomfortable. "Aiyah!" He said with enthusiasm. "Kiku, thank you! Thank you a thousand times over!"

Japan had no choice...He had to destroy China's spirit by the end of this two weeks, it was vital to the war. A disheartened nation put the whole population out of spirits, it would only help the Axis.

This Frenchman had China's heart, and enraged him to the point of absolute slaughter; everyone in the Axis agreed that it was nothing but trouble dealing with a heart-broken country out for blood.

From a behind a pine tree, stood a certain man, his expression stony, his violet eyes reflecting his hurt. "...He forgot..." His soft, whisper of a voice, filled with great disappointment and unmistakable sadness, spoke even quieter than usual. "Brittain's kid...heh...I guess that's different..."

Japan started with his 'help'. Making a list of what China remembered, who else was officially French-speaking, and who China had already decided wasn't his Frenchmen.

Japan had to find this person before China or anyone else did, and capture him, make sure that they both would never again speak.

The way Yao spoke of this person...it was like he had become a sort of god to him. It made Japan wonder if he really had seen this person, honestly. He just seemed too perfect!

"He was bigger than America! With a stronger body too, I know that for sure, aru."

"How do you know that?"

"America has a belly like a pig, and I didn't feel much of a belly when he..." Yao blushed; putting his hands on his face, just remembering that he'd stupidly began talking about the actual sex. He finished his sentence, mumbling. "-when he was behind me..."

Japan blushed a little himself, coughing into his hand as he wrote on the little scrap of paper he'd started the list on.

He described longish hair, blonde, and soft. His hands were cold and large, and he smelt of whiskey. Definitely whiskey.

"Who drinks whiskey?" Japan looked around, and felt a sweat drop fall down the side of his head. Everybody drank whatever the hell they could get their hands on these days! Getting drunk was a privilege now, during the war.

"America, and...and..." Yao's eyes closed, concentrating.

_The bar was darkly lit, the smell of musty alcohol and sweating bodies was clear as the record-player blared in some corner of the room, Brittain already passed out in a booth, America going on about some random nonsense, something about his American baseball players being the reincarnate of some god. _

_A low chuckle sounded from behind Yao, making the Asian turn in surprise, mostly because that tone had the distinct, amused sound of a certain Russian he knew. But no...his eyes were violet, maybe a few shades darker than Ivan's, his hair wavy like France's, but a colour closer to Brittain's, his face was an exact echo of the drunken American who had forced him out, but...different, darker. _

_Insane. _

He whispered some French nonsense as he watched the American pig go on screaming to the obviously uncaring bartender. "Connard..." A bottle of whiskey on the counter, a glass of ice, partly filled with the amber liquid, in hand, the label of a crown on a pillow...

"Crown Royal!" Yao suddenly decided. "He only drank Crown Royal the whole night!"

"That is an American Whiskey." Japan said, looking to the American man, who was eating a mountain of hamburgers on his desk. Some American Generals, made Prisoners of War, had asked for a glass of Crown Royal whiskey as a part of their last meal before execution, saying that it was the best for their last meal, they'd get even drunker and be able to face God for their crimes of murder and chaos. Japan had attempted to procure some, in respect for their deaths, but it was rather difficult and only a few had gotten a full glass, others had to make due with a cap or normal Japanese sake.

China shook his head. "It can't be him! He can't be!" he stubbornly refused to believe that his lover had been Alfred, considering he'd seen both at the same time, and the fact that Alfred was just too...American.

Japan wondered if he could convince China that America was indeed his lover, if China believed it, than he would he torn that he'd been searching for such an oblivious and rather young, bachelor-character. China was the type to settle down, monogamous, he'd been like that for as long as Kiku could remember.

America, on the other hand, detested any such notions. To him, a wedding ring would be no different than a dog collar and crop.

And if this person was real, and saw China attempting to bed America, then that would be a rather big hit on him too, right?

No, this person obviously had no real romantic intentions with Yao, he'd made that painfully clear to his once-upon-a-time big brother.

A little spark of anger lit, and was quickly extinguished within Japan. No...he wasn't doing this to really help China, to help his Brother...he was doing this so he could make sure they never met, so China's morale would weaken and wane.

It had to be done. "China-san...Maybe you should consider the fact that...America-san...could be the person you've been looking for..."

* * *

Hahahaha, Japan is such a bitch in my story! So, fact time!

Japanese Prisoners of War, American, Russian, whatever, were treated like absolute crap, even Generals, so Kiku's kindness is not so much exaggerated, but a flat-out lie. They were pretty much slaves and were never given any such rights before execution.

Crown Royal is a real Canadian whiskey, created the same year World War 2 broke out, 1939. It wasnt imported to other parts of the world, mainly The United States of Alfred, until 1964 and is currently America's favorite Whiskey. It's 40% alcohol by volume so...it's mostly made of alcohol. (Mattie can hold his liquor dammit!)

And, just so everybody knows, it's my headcannon that the mood of a personification is the same as the morale for the country. If China starts feeling hopeless about his whole lover-problem, then the morale of the Chinese solders would weaken and any battle's they'd fight in would be, more or less, and easy victory for the Axis.

Sorry if it's so short! I had to cut it off there.


End file.
